He can't do it.

The prime opportunity to finish this job once and for all.

Callahan's hand trembles as he stares at the uncapped vial of poison. One drop in your tea and it's over. He's been in your service as a personal attendant for months now, waiting for the prime opportunity to execute his plan- his sworn duty to the assassin's guild.

All he can picture is your pretty face twisting into an expression of betrayal. The thud of your body hitting the floor. The light he's so attracted to eventually draining from your eyes. The vision alone makes him sick.

And then there's the kiss you shared. A mistake when you drank a little too much at a royal banquet. You kissed the man in your sworn service and the man destined to kill you.

The taste continues to linger on his lips. It haunts him and renders him utterly useless.

He recaps the vial, slipping it into his pocket just as your bedroom door swings open.

He masterfully schools his features, stooping into a bow. "I've prepared your tea, your Highness."